Hectic (Arcane Mage Series Book 2) Page 3

  Unfortunately for me, I was not Puss in Boots. Hell, I wasn’t even wearing boots.

  Theo didn’t fall for it one little bit. In fact, if anything, he seemed even more determined now. All the softness had left his features and there was a stubborn glint to his eyes that told me he meant business.

  I clearly had to work on my puppy dog eyes.

  Why am I even doing this shit? I shouldn’t be bothering with him! He’s my ex. That means I don’t have to answer him at all. Stop being dumb, Charisma.

  “You can’t, Char. Ask for something else, anything. But I’m not in charge here. Even if I wanted to help you, I don’t have the power to get you out of here. You’d need to convince the Healers.”

  “Then find me a Healer,” I demanded.

  Okay, I’d admit, I sounded like a bitch, but I was starting to get desperate. The walls were closing in on me, stifling me, trying to draw me under.

  Hurt lit up Theo’s eyes for a second before he schooled his expression again, and I felt like an ass for all of three seconds before I remembered this was Theodore Soulbinder standing there looking at me. I didn’t owe him shit, much less being nice to him. If he wanted me to start playing nice, he better find a Tardis, jump in it, and fix the past, and he better not step on any fucking butterflies while he was at it.

  “Why are you here, anyway?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Might as well get to the bottom of this shit.

  Theo looked at me as if having an internal debate with himself and I decided I could give him all of five seconds to start talking before I threw something at him. Like a pillow, or the IV stand, which looked heavy enough that it might hurt–if I could lift it, that was.

  What? The asshole deserved some physical pain after the emotional hell he put me through. Fair was fair.

  “I was there, Char, outside of your apartment when it happened. I saw it go up in flames. I thought—” His voice broke, and he ran a hand over his already messy hair before he continued. “I saw it when they got you out, or what was left of you. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the moment I thought you were dead.”

  Oh shit. That was bad. Had other people gotten hurt? Did anyone die? I was dying to ask these questions, but then my brain finished processing what Theo had said.

  “Wait. You were outside my apartment? Why?”

  Theo gave me a sheepish smile.

  “Never mind,” I protested when he opened his mouth. “I don’t want to know.” I shook my head to emphasize my point.

  The more I poked at this shitstorm, the more it would stink, and it was just not worth it.

  Why couldn’t Theo just stay in the fucking past where he belonged? If I’d wanted to relive things that had long since passed, I’d have gone to a museum. It would be less painful.

  “Char, please. We need to talk. I need to apologize, it’s just… There are things you don’t know, things I never told you. Just give me a chance to explain.”

  Theo’s plea had the opposite effect, however, and instead of warming me up and making me want to hear what he had to say, my heart froze over. If I were a Jedi, I was pretty sure Theo’s head would’ve exploded by the intensity of my gaze right now.

  “Talk? You want to talk!? That’s rich coming from you, isn’t it? Five years, Theo. You’ve ignored me for five damn years and now, all of a sudden, you want to fucking talk? You should’ve apologized five years ago. Hell, you could’ve apologized at any time over the last five years, and I’d probably have listened. But guess what? I don’t have to fucking listen to anything you have to say anymore, because when you ignore your girlfriend for five long-ass years, she stops being your girlfriend!” I yelled.

  Over the years, I had fantasized about what I’d say to him if I ever got the chance, I’d wondered what he’d say, how he would explain what happened. If there even was an explanation for what happened other than the whole “I no longer want you because you’re nothing now.”

  He’d only taken an interest in me again when Logan had, and I was sick and tired of being a pawn in someone else’s game.

  I might have become involved with the Arcane heirs, but Logan, Blaze, and even Andres had been nothing but straightforward with me from the very start. Logan and Andres wanted to use me for their own personal gain, and I was okay with it since I’d be getting plenty of money to make it worth my troubles. And Blaze… well, we’d become an unlikely team. More than a team, if you took into account the couple of very heated encounters we’d had. Not that I was complaining.

  The same couldn’t be said about the person standing right in front of me, though. I had tons to complain about over his presence and attitude. This hot and cold shit was getting old.

  I ran a frustrated hand in my hair, wincing at the bird’s nest I could feel. “Look, just... I can’t do this right now, Theo.”

  “You’re right,” he sighed, looking chagrined. “I’m sorry. This is shitty timing. Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?”

  “Can I use your phone? Please,” I added softly, doing my best to look sad and pathetic. Which couldn’t be too hard, considering I probably looked worse than I felt. I doubted I’d had a bath during the whole time I’d been here.

  Unless Theo had given me a sponge bath, and I so did not know how I felt about that bit.

  Nope, not gonna go there.

  See? I was rocking this denial thing. Although, if this kept up, I was gonna need a bigger box.

  Theo bit his bottom lip. “I really shouldn’t, Char. Remember when I said AMIA got involved? A scary-ass older agent sat me down and went on and on about security whatever and traps and classified information, but the gist of it was that I had to keep my mouth shut about you being alive. You’ve been reported as dead all over the news. What was that even about, anyway? Why did they get involved? Fuck, why are people after you?”

  I ignored his questions and the fact that the Arcane Mage Intelligence Agency and most likely Christian had been all over my business, and instead opened my eyes just a tad bigger and made myself look a little more pathetic. “Please.”

  I knew the minute I had him when Theo gave an exasperated sigh and gave me his phone.

  “One phone call. And I’ll be here the whole time. And I swear to the Goddess if this gets me in trouble with the Agency or arrested for treason or something, I’ll spank your ass,” he murmured the last part under his breath, and once again I chose to ignore him.

  He was giving me one phone call, and it was all I needed, anyway.

  I was getting out of here before he knew it.

  4

  Theo

  I looked at Charisma while she talked on the phone with only the Goddess knew who. Clearly, she thought that whoever was on the line would be able to help her get out of here but based on how much those full lips of hers were pouting and the frown marring her face, she was not getting her way.

  I wanted to smirk, but I held back. If I knew my Char at all, she wouldn't appreciate me laughing at her frustration.

  My Charisma?

  Fuck.

  I had to stop thinking of her like that. She'd stopped being mine years ago when I'd acted like a fucking asshole. I'd had my reasons for acting the way I did, but still. Sometimes I caught myself wondering if it wouldn't have been easier to have just told her the truth instead of ghosting her like an idiot. But then she would’ve tried to stubbornly stay by my side, and I knew I would’ve ruined her life.

  In order to protect her, I'd had to leave her.

  If you love someone, you should set them free, right? That was the bullshit inspirational quote I’d repeated like a mantra.

  And though I looked, stalked, and longed, I'd never regretted that decision...much.

  Until now.

  I'd almost lost my best friend, the love of my life, and I'd never even gotten the chance to tell her how sorry I was and how much I fucking loved her. I'd never gotten a chance to make amends.

  And I’d just fucked up big time by trying to fix it just
now. I was honestly surprised she’d let me stay here after she went off on me like that.

  I needed her to listen to me. Fuck, I needed her to want to listen to me so I could fix shit and try to get another chance.

  I'd do everything in my power to get her to forgive me, to make her mine. I'd lived without Charisma for five long years, and it'd barely been living at all. Even if it took me another five years—although I would much prefer five days or five weeks—I'd get her back.

  My Charisma.

  "You can't be serious!" Charisma whisper-yelled over the phone and I winced. Her voice was scratchy and weird due to all the smoke she'd inhaled. Hell, she sounded like she'd smoked twenty packs of cigarettes in one sitting. And it seemed to only add to her frustration.

  Charisma's skin was perfect once more, alabaster, and unblemished. Nothing like what she'd looked like two weeks ago when we'd finally managed to pull her out of the rubbles of her home. If not for her voice and her now fully black hair—which the Healers had managed to grow back with magic—and the hospital gown she was wearing, no one would be able to tell she'd been on the brink of death. In fact, she looked hotter than ever, with her sleep mussed hair, and that damn pout. Not to mention that the gown was paper-thin and covered very little.

  "Urgh. Fine. Whatever." Disgruntled, Charisma hung up the phone and fell back on the bed.

  "Stupid men and their stupid rules," she muttered under her breath.

  Okay, time to intervene. A grumpy and bored Charisma was a dangerous Charisma.

  "No luck?" At my words, Charisma blew a raspberry at me before she picked up my phone once again and started typing on it.

  Real mature, baby.

  "Don't sound so smug, I have a plan B."

  I raised an eyebrow. Well, if anything, at least she was acting more like herself again, even if it was a sulky child version of herself.

  "Does plan B involve ice cream? Because I bought you some."

  Charisma stopped in the midst of typing and turned to face me; her silver eyes glinted with interest even as she tried to play it cool.

  I used her distraction to get my phone away from her. I’d promised her one phone call and I’d delivered, but as much as I wanted to make amends with her, I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk prison for it.

  "Who said I want ice cream?" she asked.

  I smiled. "It's Espresso Chocolate Chip Ice Cream."

  Charisma all but launched herself at me, not remembering the IV line until it pulled on her arm and forced her to lie back down.

  I winced. Those things were uncomfortable as hell.

  "Gimme," she begged, with an almost feral look to her.

  Smirking, I made my way to the mini-fridge in her room and grabbed the pint of ice cream I'd bought for when she woke up. I'd planned to bribe my way back into her heart with it, but I supposed bribing her into being a good patient worked, too. For now, at least.

  I was just glad her ice cream preferences hadn’t changed over the years.

  Charisma was practically foaming from the mouth when she saw me turning with the ice cream in hand, and I'd never been more jealous of food in my life. There had been a time when she'd looked at me that way, like I was the last piece of heaven on Earth, the answer to all her prayers.

  I held the ice cream just barely out of her reach. "Promise me you'll stay here until the Healers say you can go, and this is yours."

  She started nodding vigorously. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Gimme." Charisma made a grab for it but I was prepared, I lifted the pint a little higher.

  "Promise me," I demanded.

  Charisma rolled her eyes at me. "Fine, I promise.” Charisma raised her pinkie finger in the universal sign of a pinkie swear. “Now gimme."

  I gave her the ice cream and went to grab a spoon while she fought with the wrapping. For an addict, she sure as hell took longer than expected to open the damn thing.

  Maybe ice cream packages were Charisma-proof?

  I turned back to hand her the spoon just in time to see Charisma releasing a cute sound of triumph and open it. She grabbed the spoon from my hand without even raising her eyes from the treat and then dug in with gusto.

  The minute the first spoonful of ice cream entered her mouth, Charisma released a happy moan that shot blood straight to my dick.

  Fuck, I'd forgotten how incredibly sexy her pleasured moans were.

  Well, at least her appetite is back, I thought, as I fought the urge to adjust myself.

  Charisma ate her ice cream with the same enthusiasm she did, well, everything, really. It had always astounded me how she could put away so much food—mostly junk food—so damn fast. When we were kids, I used to jokingly call her Kirby. The first time it happened, she'd tried to punch me in the face, but somehow she'd ended tripping over thin air and I'd had to catch her before she fell and broke something.

  By the time Charisma finished eating, I was in desperate need of a long, cold shower. Every spoonful, every single bite she took was almost a religious experience, with the way she moaned and made those damn appreciative noises.

  Fucking hell, I needed to get laid, and fast. But I knew no one would do it for me but her; no one ever had, as much as I'd tried.

  I needed to get her back.

  Charisma smiled up at me with her frozen lips and I approached her so I could get the now empty ice cream pint and throw it in the trash can.

  "Thanks," she mumbled.

  "You're welcome, Char," I replied.

  I wanted to get closer, to brush the strands of hair that had fallen on her face while she ate, to touch my lips against her frozen ones, and see if the ice cream would taste even better from her mouth. Chase the cold and replace it with my own warmth as my tongue tangled with hers.

  I wanted to beg for her forgiveness, for a chance to explain. Maybe I could even kiss her into forgiving and forgetting.

  Before I could put any of those thoughts into motion, however, the door opened and I turned to see who had entered the room, quickly getting my MET from my pocket just in case I needed to defend her.

  The green scrubs were my first clue that I shouldn't have worried as the Healer who had been in charge of Charisma entered the room. His long ass beard was white, and he looked like a wizard from one of the movies Charisma had loved so much when we'd been growing up.

  The Healer looked at me first, nodded, and then made his way to Charisma, so I sat back down on the sofa I'd been sleeping on for the last two weeks. It was practically my damn home at this point.

  "Good, you're awake," the Healer sent me a look over his shoulder and I smiled sheepishly, remembering I was supposed to have called him in if she'd managed to stay awake and coherent for more than five minutes.

  Charisma just nodded, her big silver eyes guarded.

  "Are you in any pain? Headache? Any black spots in your vision?" At each question from him, Charisma shook her head no. "Have you eaten or drank anything since you woke up?" She hesitated and he sent me another look.

  I just shrugged. Nobody had said anything about her not being allowed to eat.

  "Her voice is raspy, and I think her throat is sore," I supplied, and Charisma sent me a look that told me to shut the fuck up.

  As if I'd keep it a secret when she was in pain.

  "That's to be expected," the Healer said. "May I?" He paused with his hands just above her, waiting for permission before he would magically examine her.

  "Yes," Charisma replied, right before he touched her, and green activation circles appeared on top of where his hands were.

  I waited as he murmured underneath his breath, and Charisma seemed to relax into the bed.

  Healers were a class of mages all of their own, their vow to help any in need something they took very seriously, and that kept them from trying to hold any position of power. It was why, even though Healers could be extremely strong when it came to their magic, they had never become one of the ruling Arcane families. Their vow wouldn't allow it. Their schooling was completel
y different and separate from everyone else's, and they never got involved in any political matters. They were a completely neutral party, which made them trustworthy, even if they were their own authority and had their own ruling body, not falling under the rule of the Arcane Council.

  In the early days, Healers used to be called Hedge Mages, because they lived in the outskirts and used a lot of natural resources in their work. Now they had grown in numbers and expanded their abilities, and they'd carved their own place in our society. Always available if anyone—whether a member of one of the families or not—needed them.

  I watched as the Healer stepped back from Charisma, his activation circles disappearing. "There, all done. I'll need you to stay here through the night, while we make sure you stay stable. And then tomorrow morning you can go home."

  At his words, Charisma froze and I winced.

  Home.

  Hers was burned to the ground, no more than rubbles and ashes.

  Charisma had nowhere to go and based on how she tensed up and all the breath left her lungs, she knew it too.

  That was it; this was how I could get her back.

  A small thread of hope flickered inside of me at the thought, a plan on how I could get her back coming into motion.

  Maybe I could convince her to stay with me.

  5

  Charisma

  I wanted to lash out and cry at the reminder of what I'd lost. Somehow, I hadn't yet thought about the consequences of the explosion that had put me here, but I should have.

  I was homeless yet again.

  And worst of all, years and years of my work had been destroyed.

  Despair filled me and made it hard to breathe.